Glass Slipper
by Spiralled
Summary: Set during The Prom, Season 3 BtVS. Ever wonder why Angel showed up at the prom? Or what happened afterward?


Angel placed the jars of blood on the refrigerator shelf and closed the door. It hurt in a way he'd never known to see Buffy at the meat-packer's, but to be unable to touch her, to hold her. Especially when the pain pouring off her was nearly palpable. Pain that he had caused. And his delivery of the news... it mortified him to think about it. He couldn't have mangled it any worse than if he had been trying to hurt her.  
  
The knock at the door roused Angel from his stare-down with the refrigerator door. Woodenly he walked over to answer it, wondering who it could be. If it wasn't Buffy, did it really matter who was there?  
  
"Hello, Angel."  
  
Short of Buffy's smiling face, a tuxedo clad Watcher was really the last thing he expected at his door. He flinched.  
  
"Giles." Angel's eyes slid away from the Watcher's face. The guilt from his actions last year screamed at him in these unexpected moments. Why was Giles here? Fear gripped him. "Buffy?" he asked, searching the man's face.  
  
"Buffy is fine. Or as fine as could be expected under the circumstances. May I come in?"  
  
"Please," he answered, opening the door wider. "I take it she told you."  
  
"Yes. And for what it is worth, I believe you are doing the right thing and I thank you for it."  
  
"You're welcome," Angel responded automatically, the words feeling unfamiliar in his mouth. He watched with surreal curiosity as Giles paced the room. He appeared to be as uncomfortable as Angel felt.  
  
Giles stopped and faced him, hands stuffed in his pockets. "You are quite possibly the worst thing to ever happen to Buffy."  
  
Giles' gaze held his and Angel had the unusual experience of being the one who felt like the deer in the headlights. Giles wasn't looking for a response. It had been a statement and one with which Angel could not and would not disagree. Then, if it hadn't been clear before that the Watcher was serious, he removed his glasses. This did not bode well for the direction of the conversation.  
  
"However," Giles continued, "it is also clear to me that you are one of the best things in her life as well."  
  
"I, ah..." Angel tried to form a reply, tried to comprehend what Giles was saying to him. "Where is this... what are you saying?"  
  
"Tonight is the prom. I've known this for weeks. Not because Wesley has volunteered my services as a chaperone, but because when Buffy hasn't been dealing with the Mayor, it is all she has talked about."  
  
"Yes, I..."  
  
Giles held up his hand, silencing him. "Buffy has given up a great deal the past three years. She may not live through the Ascension. None of us may. If anyone deserves to be Cinderella for one night, it is she." Giles replaced his glasses before continuing. "I am here to request that you join her at the prom tonight."  
  
"Did she ask you to talk to me?"  
  
"No. No, Buffy has no idea that I am here."  
  
"She doesn't want me anywhere near her," Angel said, not realizing just how painful it would be to say it aloud.  
  
"I believe she'll make an exception. Now, while I called it a request, it actually is not. You will be there. Understood?"  
  
Angel nodded, although he had no idea where he would find a tuxedo at this hour.  
  
Giles looked at his watch. "If you leave now, you should be able to make it to the formalwear shop on Grand Avenue. And after the prom?"  
  
"I take her right home... sir?" Angel tagged on, as the frown in Giles' brow deepened during his response.  
  
Giles sighed. "While that would be my preference, no. After listening to the chatter this week, it appears that for it to be an ideal prom night, one must do something romantic afterward."  
  
"I thought the prom was the romantic part."  
  
"Then you were not thinking like an 18 year old girl."  
  
"Oh." Angel tried to imagine whatever it was he was supposed to imagine, but found himself drawing a blank. "You wouldn't have any ideas, would you?"  
  
"I don't know, maybe a romantic dinner of some sort? Flowers? Candles? Or something unique and unexpected," Giles said. "And please figure out the remainder of it on your own, as discussing the details of how to romance Buffy is making me rather uncomfortable."  
  
"Me too," Angel replied. "I mean talking with you about this, not being with Buffy."  
  
"I assumed as much."  
  
"And you don't have to worry about, well..." Angel broke off, uncertain how to say there would be no sex, no matter how romantic the mood.  
  
"I'm well aware of the conditions of your curse."  
  
"Yes, of course." They stared at each other in awkward silence, before both simultaneous speaking.  
  
"I should go."  
  
Outside, dusk had begun to gather. Giles stood at his car door, watching Angel lock his door.  
  
"Angel," he called.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"She does not know you will be there tonight, and so will not experience additional disappointment if you were to choose not to show. However, as I am chaperoning, I will know. And it would be... imprudent to cross me on this."  
  
Angel stared at this man, over 200 years his junior, and felt a flicker of jealousy toward Buffy. If his father has been more like Giles, maybe things would have been far, far different. Then he felt nothing but an overwhelming gratitude. He was leaving Buffy, but he wasn't leaving her alone. Anything Giles could do to keep Buffy safe, Angel knew he would do.  
  
"Giles?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Thank you."  
  
With a shadow of a smile around his eyes, Giles nodded, then got into his car and drove away.

xxxxx

Angel scanned the crowded gym floor. He couldn't see Buffy. Maybe she wasn't here. Maybe he shouldn't be here. He turned, anxious to get away.  
  
"Angel," Giles called.  
  
Angel turned back. "Is she here? I couldn't find her. The people, so many..." His eyes darted around. He disliked crowded places. It was taxing on his inner nature. Only for Buffy.  
  
"Angel. Focus."  
  
Angel looked at Giles, trying hard to hear.  
  
"You can manage this," Giles was saying, "she's just over there."  
  
"I'm not sure this is such a good idea."  
  
Giles sighed. "Scones. I'm surrounded by blueberry scones."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Never mind. I'm going to join Buffy for a moment. Once you're ready, come over."  
  
He watched Giles' retreating form, until he saw her across the room. She was twirling an... umbrella? If he was seeing things that couldn't possibly be there, maybe he shouldn't stay. But then Giles nodded in his direction. Angel forced his feet one in front of the other as she turned toward him, the distance between them melting away.  
  
"I never thought you'd come."  
  
"It's a big night," he heard himself say, "I didn't want to miss it. It's just tonight. It doesn't mean that I..."  
  
"I know," she said. Then she gave a little shake of her head. "I mean I understand."  
  
He knew there would be endless days when replaying those words would keep him going. He wanted to tell her just how much he loved her, but instead he asked, "Dance with me?"

xxxxx  
  
The last song ended and they all looked up, blinking in the glare of the florescent lights.  
  
"Ah, the subtle suggestion that it's time to leave," said Xander from a few feet away.  
  
Angel could feel Buffy stiffen in his arms. He realized she was bracing herself for the night to end. Before either of them could say anything, they were pulled outside in the waves of couples exiting the gym. Angel twitched as tipsy girl stumbled against him.  
  
"Hi!" she said overly brightly before her date pulled her away.  
  
"Wow, I didn't realize how warm it was in there," said Buffy, wrapping her arms around herself.  
  
"Would you like my jacket?"  
  
"No, I'm fine. I was just..." Buffy stopped mid-sentence.  
  
Angel stopped too, still holding his jacket out for her to slip into, hoping she'd do so.  
  
She smiled and obliged. "Thank you," she said, turning north.  
  
"Where are you going?"  
  
"Home," she said flatly, stuffing her hands into the coat pockets.  
  
He waited, heedless of the milling crowd as he watched for her reaction. Her face was so expressive that he knew the moment her fingers touched them. She pulled her hand out, shaking the sleeve back so she could inspect them.  
  
"Angel? Why are there animal crackers in your pocket?" she demanded, holding out the graham flavored treats for his viewing.  
  
"They're for you."  
  
"Ooo-kay. A snack for the walk home. Thanks."  
  
"They're not a snack. Well they are a snack, but they're supposed to be a clue."  
  
"A clue for what?" she asked, excitement sneaking into her voice as she studied the crackers. "Let's see, there's a monkey and a lion and..." Buffy looked up at him, "zoo animals? Are we going to the zoo? Now? You mean my coach isn't turning into a pumpkin just yet?"  
  
He shook his head, "No, no pumpkins yet." She smiled that thousand-watt smile that he could bask in all night and grabbed his hand.  
  
"Well what are we waiting for?"  
  
Angel bit back a smile. Giles had been right. Absolutely right.

xxxxxx  
  
"We're not going to the Hyena House, are we? Pretty much a source of all badness."  
  
"No," he replied, suppressing another smile as he held the door open for her.  
  
"Oooh, you and your cryptic talk and mysterious looks."  
  
As she passed, his smile broke free as he enjoyed her barely contained curiosity.  
  
"So far, cold and dark. Mmm, my favorite combination," said Buffy.  
  
"Be patient," he said, moving toward the light switch.  
  
"I'm the Slayer. Patience? Not really a part of the package."  
  
His eyes were on her as he flipped the switch, drinking in her reaction.  
  
"Angel, look at them! They're so cute, all dressed up for prom night too."  
  
She smiled at him in that innocent knowing way that always managed to mimic for him the sensation of a racing pulse. He joined her in watching the penguins, putting his arm around her shoulders as she snuggled into him. This moment could last forever and it would still end too soon. Keeping his resolve to leave might be the most difficult thing he'd ever have to do.  
  
"Too bad they're sleeping," she murmured into his chest as she drew lazy circles on the small of his back.  
  
"Oh! I almost forgot," he said, reluctantly disentangling. "Don't move, I'll be right back."  
  
"Again with the mysteries."  
  
He found the pail just as he'd left it, nestled in the crushed ice. He hoped it was unexpected enough to qualify as a romantic gesture.  
  
"What do you have in the bucket? It wouldn't be something like..." Buffy asked as she peered into the pail, "fish?"  
  
She had a funny expression on her face. He could tell that she definitely hadn't expected this, but then he had the flash of realization that not all types of unexpected qualify as good.  
  
"I, I was thinking we could, could feed the penguins," he stammered out, looking down at the fish and then back and her face. Buffy was now biting her lower lip. "I didn't think that through far enough, did I?"  
  
Buffy grinned, laughter bubbling out of her. "Dead, raw, glassy-eyed fish? Not on my radar – ever."  
  
"I'm sorry. Let me get rid of this," Angel said, wishing he could disappear.  
  
But her hand was on his arm, stopping him. "Don't you dare go anywhere. It's the thought that counts."  
  
He eyed her dubiously.  
  
"No, really. It means..." her voice hitched. For a moment he saw the façade of 'let's pretend' slip. "It means everything that you thought this all up."  
  
Her bright smile returned and she hooked her parasol over the cast-iron railing. "As long as you promise that there is somewhere to wash up, I'm game."  
  
He stared at her until she blushed and demanded, "What?"  
  
"You are so beautiful," he said, his free hand tracing the line of her jaw. "So amazingly beautiful."  
  
He watched her blush deepen and she stammered. He placed the bucket down with a soft clink. The penguins could wait. He could not. He needed to kiss her before his heart burst.  
  
"You're shivering."  
  
"No, I'm fine."  
  
"Buffy..."  
  
"Okay, maybe just a little."  
  
"Let's go," he said, tugging at her hand.  
  
"Already?"  
  
"Just outside," he promised, putting off the inevitable.  
  
"Oh. Why didn't you say so? In that case, first we're finding that promised sink with lots of soap. And a mirror would be nice too."

xxxxx  
  
"Angel? Where are you?"  
  
"Down here," he called from the gazebo at the edge of the pond. He lit a candle so she could see him. "Perfect timing."  
  
Watching her begin to inch her way down the incline, he realized her heels were not made for hills and joined her, offering his arm, which she squeezed tightly.  
  
"What's this?" she asked nodding to the white structure in front of them. "The _Sound of Music_ redux?"  
  
"_Sound of Music_?" he repeated uncertainly.  
  
"You know, gazebo, singing, leaping... kissing in the rain..."  
  
Unconsciously he looked to the sky. "Ah, I wasn't planning on singing. Or leaping. Just chocolate covered strawberries. Sorry." His brow furrowed. How had he missed the mark on this?  
  
"I was teasing. Hands down, strawberries with chocolate win over musicals any day."  
  
The sweet berries were balanced by the bittersweet chocolate. Angel reached out and wiped an errant drop from the corner of her mouth, only to find Buffy licking the bit of chocolate from his thumb. Their eyes locked for a hazy, timeless moment before, flustered, they broke off. Buffy slid out of her seat and to the railing, looking out over the pond.  
  
"Angel, come and see," said Buffy, watching a pair of swans glide past them. She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. "I think I read once that they mate for life. Pretty unusual in the animal kingdom."  
  
He stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her as the swans disappeared into the darkness. "Unusual, but not unheard of. Penguins do too."  
  
"How...?"  
  
"I read it on the sign. Next to the part about how they like anchovies."  
  
She laughed, but the way she shuddered in his arms made him worry she was going to cry.  
  
"And us, Angel?"  
  
"We are... we are who we are, Buffy. That's all I know."  
  
"It's enough."  
  
They stood silently, the candle behind them flickering out. Buffy leaned into him, her head against his chest, his chin resting on her soft hair. The only movement was the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed in and out, the water lapping against the shore.  
  
"This Cinderella's time is nearly up, isn't it?" She finally stirred, adding, "Well at least I made it out with both shoes in place."  
  
He wanted to tell her that she was his glass slipper. That the only place his heart fit was with her. Instead, he wound his fingers through hers for the long walk home.


End file.
